What Comes Around
by Cha's Aegis
Summary: Steve and Mark are reminded that no matter how well you know how to play the game, life tends to throw you a curve ball when you least expect it. Revised, improved, will make your breath smell minty fresh!
1. Chapter 1

_**COMPLETELY REWRITTEN!**_

**Disclaimer:** DM characters aren't mine…blah, blah, blah…original characters are…blah, blah, blah. Sue if you want, ain't gonna get nothing, I'm too puh. (See? I'm so broke, I can only afford the "P" in poor!)

**Comments:** Flame if you want, all I can say is (_singing_) "burn baby burn!" I pretty much ignore them because flamers are usually too lazy to bother explaining why they don't like something. Or they're cowardly bullies who are trying to get a rise out of folks because their own lives are too pathetic to live.

The rating is T because of a few expletives, crass language and such. Don't have to worry about encountering anything sexually explicit in this fic.

For those who don't know Spanish or just not familiar with the name, Auralia is pronounced Ore-all-lee-ah. Amalia is pronounced Ah-mall-ee-ah. The last name is pronounced Ah-ce-veh-des, all long sounds. Her nickname Aurie is pronounced Orry, like Orry Main from the North & South miniseries and books.

**_This rewrite is dedicated to texas2step, kittn, Rach, Kaiti, patscats, tvnerdgirl, MischievousPuck, AOK2, mouse8 and Helena._**_Thank you for taking the time to review. I'm long overdue on updating, but I certainly appreciate your input and patience. I hope you enjoy the changes I made._

* * *

It's amazing how time works. When you want something to happen quickly, either because you're eagerly anticipating something or you just want to get it over with, time seems to move slower than molasses in the winter. However, when you don't want something to happen, the faster time seems to sprint along.

Auralia Acevedes was stuck somewhere in between. As she tried to patiently wait in the opulently decorated waiting room of Davis, Stein & Hartman Design she was torn between wanting to get this meeting over with fast and hoping it never happened at all. That quandary seemed to make time rather schizophrenic. She knew she hadn't been waiting very long since forcing herself to walk through the glass double doors up to the reception desk. She was surprised the receptionist didn't chase her out for not having an appointment and asked her to sit and wait until she could be seen. For the last twenty minutes Auralia facilitated between believing the antique French clock hanging on the wall was moving far too agonizingly slow for it not to be broken and it feeling like she just blinked and five minutes have already shot by.

It didn't take long for her to understand why the steady ticking of a clock is capable of driving someone insane.

Forcing herself to breathe deeply before she gave into the urge to throw the damn frilly thing down on the floor and stomp on it, Auralia took a moment to carefully study her surroundings. It wasn't a big waiting room because with the type of clients this interior design firm caters to it wouldn't be good form to keep them waiting for long. It was comfortable and decorated like someone's living room. Someone with a lot of money and a taste for the eclectic.

She had done her homework before coming to the five story converted warehouse located near the L.A. fashion district. She learned Spencer Davis was one of the top interior decorators in Southern California. He was born privileged, but rather than simply squander his inheritance like a typical playboy, he opted to make a name for himself. Without any help from his family fortune, he and two other decorators built Davis, Stein & Hartman Design from the ground up into a Fortune 500 company.

Auralia sighed heavily as she raised her arms above her head and stretched out the kinks in her back. Mentally she reminded herself not to get all worked up. That whatever happens will happen. Smirking to herself, she knew it wasn't an easy philosophy to follow when it felt as if her life depended on the answers she hoped to get from this meeting. The reality was her life did depend on it. Patience had never been her strong suit and it was getting harder not to just get up and leave. If she had a choice, she wouldn't be subjecting herself to this agony. However, she doesn't so she was just going to have to suck it up and follow through.

Glancing down she noticed her blouse had bunched up funny when she stretched. Grabbing the hem she tugged it back into place with another soft sigh. Her anxiety at waiting for one Spencer Davis fed into her childish insecurities. Not only did she feel like a little kid caught doing wrong and waiting to meet her doom in the principal's office, she felt like a fish out of water. She felt incredibly underdressed surrounded by all the luxury.

She thought it'd be enough splurging on a tailored, button up blouse to offset her worn jeans and tennis shoes. That just ended up being the equivalent of throwing a cheap rug over the embarrassing stain in the carpet. It's still there and you only just attracted more attention to it. Not having any experience with anything fancier than a Village Inn restaurant, she had no idea how fancy this design firm would be. Even if she did, though, she wouldn't have been able to afford to do more than she did.

_'Can't do anything about it now,'_ she thought resignedly.

Auralia mentally went over what she planned to say to Spencer Davis should she miraculously get in to see him. Unfortunately the words she'd rehearsed hundreds of times eluded her the longer she waited. Finally abandoning her speech, she concentrated on keeping calm while her insides twisted into knots. Finally a buzz from the receptionist's phone jolted her from her reverie. Attempting to appear disinterested, she strained to hear what the woman was quietly saying into phone.

Replacing the handset onto the cradle she turned to the young teen. "Mr. Davis will see you now, Miss Acevedes."

"Thanks," Auralia replied standing up. Slinging her backpack over one shoulder she crossed the room to the large wooden French doors. "Time to face the executioner," she muttered under her breath as she grasped the knob and entered.

Looking around as she crossed the room, Auralia decided the word 'office' was a misnomer. It could easily be converted into a small apartment. Not surprisingly it was furnished lavishly, albeit in a more contemporary style than the waiting room.

One thought crossed her mind as she walked over the huge Persian rug to the enormous art deco glass desk. _'Mr. Davis certainly has expensive tastes.'_

As she approached the desk a disembodied voice drifted out. "Please, have a seat. I'll be just a moment."

Settling into one of the luxurious leather chairs facing the desk, she had to will herself to loosen her grip on the backpack in her lap. After what seemed like an eternity, Mr. Davis finally appeared, striding in from another room off to her left. He was a handsome man of average height with liquid brown eyes. The flecks of gray in his curly black hair belied his boyish face.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he said sliding behind his desk. "I was on the phone with a client and it took longer than expected. Wouldn't you think that someone who could afford hire an interior designer would trust that designer to know what they're doing?"

Startled by the sudden question Auralia blinked stupidly before answering. "Uh, yeah. Sure. I'd think that."

"Right. Common sense tells you that. However, you'll be hard pressed to find an ounce of common sense in Southern California. I mean, who in their right mind would build a subway in earthquake country?"

Finding his enthusiasm infectious she couldn't resist returning his smile as she conceded his point. "Yeah, true."

"Anyway, enough of that," he waved his hand in the air dismissively. "How may I help you?"

"My name is Auralia Acevedes and I'm from Tucson. Not sure how to say it without sounding crazy, but…" Pausing to close her eyes briefly as she took a deep breath she finally just said it. "well…I think you might be my father."

Auralia waited for some sort of explosive denial, like on TV, but Spencer quietly sat back in his chair studying her.

After a few moments he finally spoke. "What leads you to believe I'm your father?"

"Honestly? I don't know for sure." She replied sheepishly with a shrug. "My mom got really drunk once and started rambling about how you got her pregnant with me. Knowing my mom, it's probably not true, but I need to find my biological dad." She admitted with a resigned sigh.

"Your mother doesn't happen to be Amalia Acevedes?" Spencer asked with a quirked brow.

Auralia blinked in surprise. "Uh, yeah, how'd you know? From my last name?"

"That did help, but I also know your mother very well. I've got to admit I was hesitant to meet with you at first. I wasn't sure how much you'd resemble your mother, in regards to your motives, I mean. But, I was curious about what you had to say. I'm curious, why find your father now?"

Auralia blew out a breath. "Kinda had to. See, I'm not a legal U.S. citizen and neither is my mom. I'm trying to correct that because I've been here for a while and really would like to stay. Anyway, if my father is a citizen, the immigration officer handling my case says I'll have an easier time becoming a legal resident."

Spencer sat in quiet contemplation for a few moments before speaking. "I can honestly tell you I'm not your father." He smiled gently at her. "I'm sorry if my answer disappoints you, but I'm absolutely certain without a blood test. Your mother was a very beautiful and charming woman. The reason she's memorable to me is she had an insatiable appetite for the good life she couldn't support on her own. And really, what better way to keep living well than by marrying rich?"

Auralia couldn't help but return his smirk as he continued his story. "Amalia decided I was the rich eligible man for her. It was amusing how hard she tried to seduce me, especially considering she wasn't the first to set her sights on me. She had no idea I already well versed in that game. About sixteen years ago I hosted a party at a friend's house in Malibu. Your mother managed to secure an invitation, a particular talent of hers. I remember leaving the party at about two that morning and went home. A month later she shows up here informing me she's pregnant with my child. I couldn't help myself, but I started laughing, which only made your mother livid."

Spencer paused to shake his head at the memory. "I simply told her the baby wasn't mine. She insisted it was and I had slept with her, but was too drunk to remember. I wasn't even buzzed, which is why I remembered that night quite clearly. I had three glasses of champagne the entire night and nothing else. In her frustration she slipped saying she drugged my champagne. I started laughing again, only harder. I asked her, 'were you too drunk yourself to remember? You never poured me a glass.' She continued being adamant that the baby was mine and I was only trying to avoid my obligation. Since she refused to believe me I had to bluntly admit certain facts about myself. I'm sterile and I'm gay. Always have been. When I suggested we do a paternity test once the baby was born she promptly stormed out of my office and I haven't heard from her since."

Many thoughts and memories swirled in Auralia's mind as she struggled to make sense of it all. She wanted to just think Spencer was merely covering his own ass, but her mother's track record lends a lot of weight to his words. Subconsciously she knew he wasn't her father.

Finding her voice she looked him in the eye. "Thanks. You've helped me understand some things better than I did before. You could've just blown me off, especially knowing who my mom was, and," she hesitated to take a deep breath, "I want to say I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Spencer asked confused.

"Yeah, because of what mom did. That I'm bothering you about this again. I believe what you're saying, really. But, I was wondering…if…" Auralia took another deep breath to calm her nerves before continuing. "Do you have any idea who is, I mean, who might be my father? I don't have to know, but I need to know, you know?"

Davis chuckled and thought for a few minutes. "I might have a few possibilities."

"A few?" She asked incredulous.

"Three actually. Oh don't be surprised, I wasn't the only one your mother set her eyes on. I just happened to be the richest."

"Oh." Auralia replied quietly, realizing things were getting far more complicated than she expected.

"If I remember correctly, by the time I left the party there were only three other men there who your mother would pick as a viable alternative to me. All three were single, eligible and rich enough for her. Well, at least two of them. Let's just say that the third was well connected."

"So who are they?" Relief colored her voice because finding three men would be easier than having to deal with several more.

"Patience, my dear. I was just getting to that. I must apologize, though. I tend to be overly dramatic at times. I'm a sucker for suspense," he said with a smile. "The three possibilities are," he paused again and gestured to her backpack, "you might want to get out a pen and paper." He waited until she was ready before continuing. "Alright, the three possibilities are Lawrence Taylor, Mark Sloan and Steve Sloan."

"Are the two Sloans related?" She cocked her head in confusion.

"Yep. Father and son."

Her eyes widened in shock. "Whoa."

"Pretty dishy stuff, huh?" Spencer quipped with a grin.

"Yeah, I'll say. If this wasn't my life, it'd have the makings of one hell of a soap opera."

Spencer chuckled. "It would. Your mother was cunning, ruthless and devious. She would use any means necessary to achieve her goals." He paused as another thought occurred to him. "You know, she would've done well in the corporate world."

"Yeah, she would've," Auralia mumbled under her breath before speaking louder. "Do you have any idea where I can find these men? It'd save so much time."

"I haven't really kept up with them. We pretty much move in different circles, but occasionally I bump into one every so often. I know that Taylor still lives in Hollywood. Owns and operates Night Sweat Pictures."

"Night Sweat Pictures?" Auralia asked incredulously. "Sounds like porno."

"It is. Runs it out of Van Nuys."

"Oh-kay." She replied slowly. "Um, how about the other two?"

" Mark Sloan is a doctor at Community General Hospital in Los Angeles. Head of Internal Medicine, I think. Nice guy. Every time I see him, he tries to get me donate funds to the hospital."

"Is that the father or the son?"

"The father."

"What about the son?" She furiously jotted down everything Spencer was telling her, hoping she'd be able to read her handwriting later on.

"I know that Steve was a cop, but I think he's a detective now in the LAPD. If I'm not mistaken, he lives with his father."

"He lives with his father?" Disbelief colored her voice as she arched a brow in surprise.

"I'm almost certain of it." Spencer replied with a nod.

"Ah, a boomerang."

Spencer chuckled, "a boomerang?"

"Yeah, you know, someone who leaves then returns home to live with mommy and daddy. Boomerang."

Spencer laughed harder. "Never heard that one before! They're close, I know that much. If you find one, you'll definitely find the other."

Nodding in understanding Auralia finished writing and put her notebook away. Standing up she offered Spencer her hand. "Thank you so much, you've helped a lot."

"You're welcome," Spencer replied with a smile as he shook her hand. Walking her out, he paused at the door. "I hope this doesn't offend you, but you're so unlike your mother. Other than information you asked for nothing. You could've tried laying down a scam, but didn't. You seem quite the opposite of your mother."

Auralia smiled at him warmly. "No offense taken. That's the best compliment I've ever had."

"Good luck. I hope you find what you're looking for," Spencer called from the doorway as she exited the reception area into the hallway.

"Thanks. So do I." She replied as she stepped out toward the elevators.


	2. Chapter 2

_**REWRITTEN**_

* * *

It was still early when Auralia left Davis, Stein & Hartman Design. Knowing she was going to have a long bus ride ahead to Van Nuys, she stopped in a nearby McDonald's to grab an early lunch. She was eager to get all this crap over and done with as quickly as possible, so she needed to find out exactly where Night Sweat Pictures was located.

She couldn't resist smirking every time she thought of that name._ 'Sounds more like a side effect of menopause than a place that makes porno.'_

She didn't have much of an interest in pornos, but from what her friends subjected her to made her realize there was a definite lack of originality when it came to the movie and film companies names.

As she flipped through the phone book she borrowed from the cashier at McDonalds she remembered how her friends thought they were so badass when they got their hands on some pornos and started watching them. Auralia had to admit she was curious and the experience was definitely an eye opener. However, once she got over the initial, what she liked to call 'giggle factor' where you stupidly blush and giggle in embarrassment over something, she actually found them boring.

The movies really had no plot, the acting was horrible and the sex acts were rather repetitive. One of her friends called her stupid because no one watches pornos for the acting or stories. Auralia did have to agree, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized she would rather be having the sex than watching it. Watching someone else get it on was really boring.

Thinking of her friends in Tucson reminded her how Jasmine used to sing 'buck a chicky bowm bowm' to emulate the cheesy music that seemed to be the standard for pornos. She did that whenever they were talking about anything related to sex or someone hooking up with someone else. Now that she remembered it, Auralia realized she couldn't get the damn melody out of her head. Annoyed she vowed when she got home to go 'buck a chicky bowm bowm' on Jasmine's ass for being responsible for that stupid earworm sticking in her head.

Once she found where Night Sweat Pictures was located she hopped on the bus confident she'd be there fairly quickly. However, it didn't take long to realize a chimp on crack must've designed the Los Angeles metropolitan area public transit system. She never had a problem following maps and knew it wasn't just human error on her part after the fifth time she got on the wrong bus. Seemed like she was ending up everywhere but where she wanted to be.

Eventually she got back on track after talking to one of the friendlier bus drivers and figured out which line she was supposed to be on. Worn out from the late afternoon heat, she was relieved when she finally made it to Night Sweat Pictures.

After the successful meeting with Spencer Davis that morning, she was confident things would just get easier. That sentiment quickly became the understatement of the year as she entered the nondescript warehouse.

Politeness wasn't the way to go with the receptionist. Honesty didn't work either. She wasted the better part of an hour arguing in circles to just see Lawrence Taylor for five minutes. The receptionist even threatened to call the cops, but Auralia called her bluff, telling her go ahead. She just had a feeling they wouldn't want a bunch of cops showing up outside in the parking lot.

The woman she mentally dubbed the 'puta from hell' just glared and repeated she couldn't see Mr. Taylor. Narrowing her eyes in frustration Auralia decided she was just going to have to somehow sneak in. She seriously doubted if she left a message that Taylor would bother calling her back. She just had to figure out how. Looking around she didn't see any bathrooms nearby, so her bladder was the perfect excuse.

Blowing out a harsh breath, Auralia snapped, "Fine. Can I schedule an appointment with Mr. Taylor?"

Smirking in triumph the receptionist imperiously stated, "I don't schedule his appointments. You'll have to call in the morning and see if the girl who maintains Mr. Taylor's schedule is available. She doesn't keep regular hours, you know."

Auralia knew that was complete and utter bullshit when she could clearly see a scheduling book open right in front of the floozy. Biting her tongue she faked a smile saying instead, "Well, thank you for your help, _ma'am_."

She mentally smirked at the glare the over-bleached blonde leveled at her. Earlier the woman very clearly told her not to call her 'ma'am.' Old ladies were ma'ams, not her. Of course, Auralia did not share that opinion since the woman wore enough make-up to make a drag queen either jealous or cringe away in horror. She didn't look younger, but her age was indiscernible under all that war paint. Auralia figured she was trying to preserve herself so her body would be discovered by some archaeological dig in the far future. The archaeologists and scholars would furiously debate on how any woman could breathe in such unflatteringly tight clothes, which accented all the wrong curves.

Before she turned to leave, Auralia asked if there was a restroom she could use.

The receptionist rolled her eyes in annoyance. "No public restroom."

Giving her a 'are you kidding' look, Auralia tried again. "Look, I'm not asking for access to your vaults, just to use the potty. It's not like there's a gas station or a McDonald's nearby."

"Sounds like a personal problem," the receptionist replied airily as she straightened up her desk. Seeing Auralia still standing there glaring, the woman smirks before adding, "If it's that bad you could just go in the alley behind the building. Just make sure the cops don't catch ya. The bums might even appreciate the show."

Fed up, Auralia walked out the door, figuring she'd try to see if maybe there was another door she could sneak in through. She wasn't betting on it, though. As she plotted outside, a UPS van pulled up. She idly watched the driver go inside. A couple of minutes later the receptionist followed the driver back out, panting and drooling after him like he was a bitch in heat. Arching a brow, Auralia realized the receptionist's entire world suddenly only consisted of brown as she fawned over the UPS guy as they accounted for the packages he was delivering.

Realizing this was her chance Auralia deftly slipped back inside and started walking down the hallway behind the receptionist's desk. She knew it was a stupid idea, but she didn't come this far for nothing.

Unfortunately today was not her day for finding her way around. She felt like a total idiot after ending up in the janitor's storeroom. Twice. Finally, she thought she was getting somewhere when she found the soundstage. She had no idea if Lawrence Taylor would be here, but judging by the whirlwind of activity going on, it'd be a lot easier to stay hidden until she could find him.

Obviously there was a movie being made. People scurried about moving things here and there or running some sort of errand. It was going to be hard finding Taylor amidst the sea of bodies, but she had time and knew what he looked like. She had plenty of time to study his photo, which towered obnoxiously behind the receptionist's desk. The challenge was to find him before she was kicked out by security.

Spotting an abandoned clipboard lying on top of some boxes nearby, she swept it up and started walking purposefully as if she were just another crewmember. The tactic seemed to work, as it didn't take long to spot her quarry.

Lawrence Taylor looked almost exactly like his portrait. Wavy, shoulder length, golden brown hair, light blue eyes and an even tan gave him the appearance of a stereotypical Californian. However, his physical stature was less imposing than his portrait, which seemed to be a good seven feet in height. Auralia knew she was average in height and judged he was maybe an inch or two taller than her. His picture must have been taken in the recent past, because even though his face looked the same, he had obviously gained some weight since it was taken.

As she approached he was addressing two 'actors' who were wearing only bathrobes. His booming, arrogant voice could be heard easily above the noise.

"What the hell do you two think you're doing? The name of the movie is 'A Roll in the Hay' not 'A Stroll in the Park.' It's porn, not a damn Harlequin romance novel!" He was gesturing between the two actors. "Screw romantic sensuality. I want primal animal lust. I want intensity. I want her eyes popping out of her head and her toes curling in ecstasy. You got me Donny? Good, because if you don't start getting it, it's back to grannies stuffing fives and tens down your Speedo's in Poughkeepsie!" Running a hand through his hair, he turned and stalked away muttering, "I need a drink" under his breath.

Falling in step beside him, Auralia jumped at her chance. "Mr. Taylor, can I talk to you?"

He stopped and looked her over. "You don't work for me. Do I even know you?"

"No, but I need to talk to you alone for a minute."

Lawrence's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Look, don't know who you are and really don't care. If you're looking for a part, we've cast all the roles. Plus, to get one you have to audition like everyone else. Union rules." Quirking a brow as he looks her over again he continues, "But I've gotta be honest, you're not the type I like to hire. I prefer the 'all American' look for the girls in my films. You're too short and heavier than I like. Though, you're curvaceous enough, light complexioned enough and could dye your hair, you're still not what I'm looking for. Your features are too ethnic. So if you could just leave or I'll call security." With that he started walking away again.

Auralia stood there stunned for a moment. She was blown away by the fact he thought she wanted to be in one of his sleazy films. As if. Regaining her senses she ignored the insult and hurried to catch up. "Mr. Taylor, I don't want a job. I just need a couple of minutes about something important."

Lawrence paused long enough to shrug. "Suit yourself. Get security in here! Now!"

A little freaked, Auralia suddenly thought of her friend Lizzie and a stunt she pulled once to get out of a tight spot. Going for broke, she channeled her inner blonde, as her blonde friend Penny liked to call it whenever they played dumb about something.

"Why don't you want to talk to me?" She wailed, pitching her voice high to get the most whine out of it while Lawrence gaped at her in shock. "You said age didn't matter! You said you didn't care about statutory laws! And I'm not even in art!" By now she had the attention of everyone in the vicinity. "You said I gave the best b.j. you ever had in your Mercedes, so how could you deny you're my baby daddy!"

Auralia was running out of things to say, but it was enough as Lawrence grabbed her arm and dragged her off. He was pissed and she was getting a little worried he might try something. She mentally readied herself for anything as he dragged her down another hallway to his office.

Shoving her inside he slams the door closed demanding, "Alright, who the hell are you and what do you want?"

Surprised he wasn't preparing for a beat down Auralia took a deep breath, deciding to keep things short and sweet. "I'm Auralia daughter of Amalia Acevedes. There's a chance you might be my biological dad and I need you to take a paternity test. "

Lawrence eyed her before moving to sit behind his desk. Auralia took the time to look around. The walls were plastered with adult movie posters or lined with bookcases and filing cabinets. Stacks of scripts, books and binders littered the small space surrounding the desk. Two guest chairs were positioned in front of it. Various knick-knacks, some in really poor taste, stuck out randomly among the mess. She finally settled into one of the guest chairs as he got comfortable.

"So you're learning the tricks of the trade?" At Auralia's blank look he rolled his eyes and snorted, "C'mon, you don't expect me to believe that as the kid of one of the best scam artists I've ever known you're not going to try to lay one down on me? She probably told you I'd be good pickings as your supposed father."

Auralia scowled before taking another deep, calming breath so she wouldn't go off on the idiot. "I'm not trying to lay a scam. My mom actually thought someone else was my dad. I went to see him this morning and there's no way he is. He said it's possible you or two other guys might be my dad."

Lawrence frowns in thought. "If not me, who the hell did she tell you was your father?"

"Spencer Davis."

Lawrence busted out laughing. "Oh I could've told you that! He's gayer than Liberace."

Auralia had no idea who the hell Liberace was, but decided not to ask.

"Alright, so who did dear ol' Spence name besides me to get the heat off his back?" He asked once he regained his composure.

"Mark and Steve Sloan."

"Those two boy scouts?" Lawrence asked incredulous, scrunching up his face in confusion. "Man, he must've been desperate to divert attention from himself. And you believed him?"

"Well, yeah." She admitted with a shrug.

"Sweetheart, you better learn fast not to believe everything you're told. Spencer the Fairy is just covering his own ass naming me as a candidate for your daddy. He proves it by naming the two golden boys of California. They're too pure," he mocked.

Auralia glared at him. "And how do you know for sure? 'Cause there ain't no way in hell you're gonna convince me you're still a virgin when you run a porno factory. Maybe Mr. Davis is lying, but I don't think so. I trust him better than you, anyway." Lawrence started opening his mouth, but she cut him off quickly. "Look, a paternity test can prove you're not. If you're so sure, then you're home free. So what do you care if you lose a little time out of your day and give up a little blood? It's not gonna kill ya."

Lawrence takes a few minutes to eye her shrewdly. "So, how much do you want?"

"What?" She was confused as to why he's suddenly talking about money.

"How much hush money do you want?" He demanded again.

"I don't want any money," she growled out.

"Uh huh, sure you don't. You only barge in here rambling about paternity tests." Leaning in closer he smirks condescendingly. "You're Amalia Acevedes' daughter. You want money. So how much."

Narrowing her eyes, Auralia struggled to keep her temper in check. "No, I don't. I just want to find out if you're my biological father. That's it."

"And hit me up for cash."

"Is your obnoxiousness hereditary or did you take a course in it?" She snapped.

"Years of practice, baby." Lawrence mocked as he leaned back in his chair.

Taking a really deep breath, Auralia counted to ten before trying again. "Look, I don't want money from you. I don't even want to ever hear from you again if, _big if_, you're my biological father." Seeing the skepticism in his eyes she adds, "If it's really that big a deal in taking a simple blood test, then maybe I should ask a lawyer to visit and talk to you about it."

Arching a brow Lawrence replied, "You sure play dirty like your mother."

"Only when my opponents fight dirty." She paused blowing out a harsh breath. "Look, are you going to take the damn test or not?"

"Which you want me to pay for, right?" He asked sarcastically.

Gritting her teeth, Auralia started praying not to snap and kill the moron. "I'm paying. After that, you can forget all about me. I don't exist to you; you don't exist to me. No strings attached. Simple, right?"

He stared at her, mulling it over before finally conceding. "Alright, fine. When do you want me to give a blood sample?"

"Don't know yet. Got to set it up and stuff. I'll have to call you later about it." She replied, relieved he wasn't fighting it anymore.

Reaching into the inner pocket of his sports coat Lawrence drew out a business card and handed it to her. "This is my personal business card with my private number on it. Call me when you've got it together. Now will you leave, or do I have to call security?"

"Nope. Don't have to," Auralia replied with a fake smile as she got up and left. A moment later she popped her head back in. "Um, how do I get out of here?"

Several minutes later she slouched down in her seat as the bus pulled away from the bus stop located a block down from Night Sweat Pictures. She now had a pounding headache and just wanted to go back to the motel and crash. Only one thought occupied her mind. _'Even soap operas aren't this twisted.'_

_

* * *

_A/N: Puta is Spanish slang in Mexico for whore or bitch and pretty much anything in that vein. Definitely not a nice thing to call a woman.

Updates will come slow for this story because I'm actually writing out a physical outline of the plot so I don't end up with a four year gap between postings ever again. O_o Chapter 2 is the exception, but after this I will be updating at least once a month, maybe twice, until I've got plenty set up to start updating more frequently. I have to honestly say I'm much happier with this version. It flows much better and isn't so stilted. I cringe at how I used to write, but I just couldn't junk this story and walk away. Now I can confidently say it will be finished. ^_^ Enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

_**REWRITTEN**_

* * *

Fate is often described as cruel. However, Auralia thought it really had more of a seriously twisted, black sense of humor.

She had at least one out of her three prospective parental candidates down and didn't think the last two could possibly be any worse than Lawrence Taylor. It was comforting to know since Mark and Steve Sloan were a doctor and a cop respectively she wasn't going to have to look for them on the movie set of some porno or someplace else equally bizarre.

Her spine twisted and crawled whenever she stopped to think Taylor might be her father. She seriously considered giving up on becoming a U.S. citizen and returning to Mexico for that reason alone. Otherwise she was pleased with how well things were going so far.

However, despite feeling she might be on the right track, it seriously seemed like the entire world was out to get her this morning. Or at least drive her insane with stupid little monkey wrenches constantly being thrown into the works. The day was starting out much worse than yesterday ended. She felt like everything that could go wrong, did.

Auralia hand washed the same blouse she wore yesterday. She considered just wearing it again, but to her dismay noticed the ketchup stain. It wouldn't be such a big deal if it weren't the only decent shirt she brought. She just didn't think anyone would take her seriously as she asked them to take a paternity test if she showed up in one of her other shirts. They weren't torn or anything, just a little worn and faded. She wanted to make a good first impression, especially when facing the wariness her mother's name brought up every time she introduced herself. At least the blouse offset her worn, frayed jeans making her look a little more professional. Sort of.

After washing it she spread it out to air dry before going to bed last night. It was only slightly damp, which wasn't a big deal, but it now truly looked like she pulled it out from the bottom of a pile of dirty clothes. She tried ironing the worst of the wrinkles, but it's hard to do that when the old borrowed travel iron she was using won't stay hot. Unfortunately, the motel thought irons were too luxurious to provide their guests. It took forever, but she finally got the shirt to where it looked at least decent.

Then she proved it really wasn't 'your way, right away,' at Burger King when they screwed up her breakfast order. When she went back to the counter to complain, they told her they were out of sausage and that's why they gave her a ham Croissanwich instead of a sausage Croissanwich. Although it really wasn't the end of the world, Auralia thought it was the principle of the matter. She felt in the mood for sausage. Besides, the ham Croissanwich didn't sit right in her stomach and she kept burping it up the rest of the morning.

While exiting the restaurant, the insole of her left tennis shoe decided to rip away from the shoe. She was forced to walk up and down the aisles of the nearest hardware store, the sole slapping obnoxiously loud with each step, just to find a roll of duct tape.

She knew she badly needed a new pair of shoes, but this trip came up and every penny she had was going toward it. If her abuela were alive she'd be scolding her for wearing them. Then she'd scold her for wearing her jeans even if she explained worn and torn jeans are considered stylish. Auralia had to admit her old, decrepit shoes were not. She was embarrassed about her appearance, but there wasn't much she could do about it.

After wasting another hour carefully taping the insole back in place, then taping both shoes to make them at least look like a matched pair, she was finally able to set out for Community General Hospital. She experienced a horrible case of déjà vu when she took the wrong bus. That wouldn't have been so bad if it didn't happen three times in a row.

'Somebody, somewhere, must be laughing their ass off 'cause I know it's not me,' she thought before grudgingly admitting, 'or I'm not as good at following maps as I thought.'

It was late morning when Auralia finally found herself standing outside the hospital. As she stood outside looking up at the huge building, the only thing she could think was, 'All I need to make this day complete is to be on my period. Lucky me, that was last week.'

Shaking her head she walked inside. She noted the hospital seemed a lot bigger than University Medical Center back in Tucson. She had only been in a hospital once in her life. One of her friends was being an idiot and he roller bladed into a parked car while trying to act like a skater dude. Since he was bleeding pretty good he was taken to UMC and checked just in case. It wasn't a terrible experience, but it didn't excite her about hospitals either.

Shoring up her courage and hoping she wouldn't have the same problems as she did at Night Sweat Pictures Auralia approached the Information Desk.

An elderly volunteer looked up from her monitor. "May I help you?"

"Um, yeah, I'm looking for Dr. Mark Sloan."

"Are you a patient of his?"

"Nno-uh-yeah. Yeah, I mean yes I am. Yep." She didn't think it'd hurt to stretch the truth a little.

" First time seeing him dear?" The volunteer asked, smiling gently.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm a little early. Do you know if he's in his office now?" Auralia asked taking advantage of the volunteer's assumption.

"He should be since you have a scheduled appointment with him, unless he was called out for an emergency. I don't have that information, but the nurses stationed near his office should know. You'll have to ask them dear."

"'kay. Could you tell me how to get there? First visit and all. Don't want to get lost," she replied before mentally adding, 'Again.'

"I'd be happy to tell you exactly how to get there. And just so you know, you've picked an excellent doctor. And he's the sweetest man you'll ever meet."

Auralia smiled back at her while she explained how to get to Dr. Sloan's office.

* * *

The directions the volunteer gave were right on the money. Auralia seriously considered getting the old lady a cookie or something, but dropped that idea just in case she was diabetic. It was nice to actually get where she wanted to and not end up in a janitor's storeroom.

She checked in at the nurse's station near his office and learned he wasn't in his office at the moment. The nurse she spoke with was confused since there was nothing down for Dr. Sloan having an appointment. Another nurse started helping her, checking a couple different spots on the computer before telling the other not to worry about it. Dr. Sloan has been dragging his heels on learning how to use the new system and probably didn't bother entering he had an appointment this morning. The first nurse nodded and promised Auralia to page him, telling her to wait inside his office.

The first thing Auralia noticed was the oscillating floor fan doing its best to cool the stuffy office. Setting her backpack on one of the guest chairs in front of the desk. She started wandering, examining all the books and knickknacks. She noticed a common characteristic among the different offices she's visited in the last twenty-four hours. The contents and decorations seem to reflect each man perfectly. Spencer Davis' office exuded wealth and style. Lawrence Taylor's office oozed self-importance and tackiness.

Dr. Sloan's office was eclectic and random with no consistent theme. The items stuffed in every available space and hanging from anything stationary represented a variety of interests, magic being dominant. The medical texts lining the bookshelves, the anatomy charts on the wall and skeleton wearing a straw boaters hat and bow tie were the only hints this was a doctor's office. If his office is anything to go by, this meeting should be very interesting.

'As long as he isn't Taylor's identical twin. Damn, that's scary,' Auralia shuddered inwardly as she stood in front of the fan, relishing the cool breeze. The office really was stuffy and she was already perspiring.

* * *

In the pediatric ward, a small child watched wide-eyed in awe as long fingers reached behind her ear and plucked a quarter in the blink of an eye. Applause broke out among the rest of the children and nurses in the ward as Dr. Mark Sloan showed everyone the quarter before taking a bow.

"Thank you. Thank you all very much for being such a good audience. I believe this is yours," he said with a smile, handing the quarter to the appreciative little girl. "Alright everyone, back to your beds and I'll see you all next week."

He smiled and waved as he left to a chorus of 'thank you Dr. Sloan.'

"That was a good show Dr. Sloan," a nurse walking alongside him said.

"Why thank you, Carrie."

"You're really good. You should think about doing it professionally. Maybe tour other hospitals and nursing homes," she suggested.

Dr. Sloan chuckled. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, but it's really just a hobby. And that's a good idea, but I don't know where I'd find the time."

"True. But in the future, you should maybe rethink your costume," she suggested with an amused grin.

"Costume?" Mark stopped and looked himself over in confusion. He was wearing nothing unusual, just his lab coat. Still confused, he looked at the grinning nurse. She slowly shook her head and pointed at his head. Reaching up he felt the gag headpiece he wore for his 'I've got a splitting headache' entrance. It looked like a wayward arrow had pierced his head.

"Oh." He replied, grinning sheepishly. "Just trying to liven up the act."

"If you say so doctor. And before I forget, you have a patient waiting for you in your office."

"A patient?" Mark asked puzzled, already forgetting the arrow. "I didn't have anyone scheduled this morning."

"That's all I was told. Sorry doctor," Carrie shrugged with a shake of her head.

"No, it's all right. I guess I should get going. I'll see you later," he replied making his way to the elevator.

The nurse just waved at him, waiting until he was just out of earshot to bust out laughing.

* * *

Startled Auralia looked up when the office door opened. Stunned silence settled over the pair as she blinked at the fake arrow piercing Mark's head and he in stared back at her holding one arm folded up like a birds wing to allow the air from the fan to hit her armpit. Realizing what she was doing, she instantly dropped her arm then awkwardly raised a hand in greeting.

"Um, hi." She felt her face growing hot, feeling stupid and hoping he was blind enough not to notice her blushing.

Recovering Mark closed the door behind him and walked over to his desk. "Good morning. Sorry I kept you waiting." Noticing she was still tense as she settled into one of the guest chairs he attempted to ease her embarrassment. "I really should get after maintenance to fix the air conditioning or people will start fainting in here."

"Um, morning. Yeah, it's kinda stuffy," Auralia mumbled, attempting to play along.

"Well, let's start over. Hi. I'm Dr. Sloan," he smiled warmly, extending his hand to her, which she slowly reached for and shook.

"Hi, I'm Auralia Acevedes," she introduced herself, still blushing.

"Nice to meet you Auralia. I'm sorry for being late, but I didn't know I had any new patients scheduled this morning."

Shifting uncomfortably because she was busted, Auralia took a deep breath before owning up. "You're not late 'cause I'm not a new patient. I lied to get in to see you. Sorry."

Despite her embarrassment she tried not staring at the arrow on his head. Mark was about to reply when noticed her eyes kept flicking to his hair. Puzzled, he reached up to check and was immediately reminded of the fake arrow he was still wearing.

Chuckling self-consciously, he removed it and set it off to the side. "Oops, forgot that was there. I was doing a magic show for the kids in the pediatric ward and it was part of my opening and, oh nevermind," he waved off his rambling and smiled at Auralia. "Alright then, what can I do for you?"

"You're not mad I lied?" Auralia asked surprised.

Taken slightly aback Mark considered it before replying with a brief shake of his head. "No. Why would I be?"

"'Cause I lied," she frowned in confusion.

"You didn't lie to me." Mark pointed out as if it were obvious. "Granted it wasn't nice to the nurses, but I don't think they'll mind as long as we don't tell them."

Auralia blinked in confusion. She expected a lecture, anger, anything. After the whole mess with Taylor she certainly didn't expect this. Deciding to leave it alone, she took a deep breath and relaxed a little. Smiling slightly she agreed with him. "Okay, guess it's not a big deal. I just needed to talk to you for a few minutes. Do you remember Amalia Acevedes?"

Mark thought about it before shaking his head. "The name sounds familiar, but I don't really remember her."

"She's my mom and, oh wait a sec." She dove into her backpack pulling out a photo and handed it to him. "This might help. It's kinda old, but it's around the time you knew her."

He studied both the picture and the young girl sitting before him. Auralia favored her mother's features a great deal, but there were significant differences. Her skin was light and creamy looking, a direct contrast to her mother's darker, cocoa colored skin. Mark figured her father must've been light complexioned or it was a recessive trait. Her hair was nowhere near as dark as her mother's nearly black hair. Hints of gold and auburn red highlighted her light brown hair. She definitely had the same full, rounded face and almond shaped, brown eyes. Her mother's nose, however, was broader and had a pronounced bump to the bridge. She was pretty, but her mother had an exotic beauty.

Recognition dawned on Mark the longer he studied the photo. "I remember her now. I used to see her at some of the social functions I had to attend for the hospital. How is she?" He asked handing back the photo.

"Thanks," Auralia replied. Pointedly ignoring his question she took the photo and put it away. "I saw Mr. Spencer Davis yesterday and he said you could help me with my problem."

Mark noticed she avoided his question, but decided to leave it alone for now. "Oh really? What's the problem?"

"I'm looking for my father and, well, you might be him."

"Excuse me?" He angled his ear toward her, uncertain he heard right.

Sighing deeply, she plunged into what was becoming a well-rehearsed spiel. "Mom said Spencer Davis was my biological father. I asked him and he could pretty much prove that he wasn't. He said that my father could be one of three men. Lawrence Taylor, you and your son, Steve."

"Steve?" Mark was even more surprised Steve was named as well.

"Yes, sir," Auralia answered solemnly, suppressing a sigh and recognizing he was going to deny the possibility.

Recovering Mark leaned forward with a serious expression on his face. Without any hint of anger he gently spoke to her. "Look, I'm sorry you went through all this effort, but there's no way I could be your father. And I'm certain Steve isn't either."

Auralia sighed softly. She wasn't surprised by his reaction. At least he wasn't being combative like Taylor.

"I know this is weird and, believe me, if I was in your shoes I wouldn't believe it either. Mom was chasing Mr. Davis. About sixteen years ago there was some party he was hosting at someone's house in Malibu. She thought she drugged him to sleep with him. She wanted to get pregnant so he'd have to give her money. But it wasn't him. She saw him like a month later saying she was pregnant with his kid, but he told her the same thing he told me, there's no way he's my father."

"And how is it he's so certain without a blood test? You could still be his child." The confusion was clear on his face.

Auralia shook her head, "Sorry, but it's not mine to tell. You'd have to ask him. But I believe him. Mr. Davis suggested you three because he knew my mom and remembered all of you were at the party. Maybe none of you are my father, I dunno. But I'd like to do a paternity test anyways."

"But I can tell you for certain, that I'm not," Mark protested.

Closing her eyes with a frustrated groan she mumbled, "Why the hell is everyone scared of a blood test?" Taking a deep calming breath she met his gaze. "Look, chances are really good you and your son aren't my father, but I want to be absolutely, without a doubt, sure. Please. There are no strings attached. I won't even bother you again. Promise. I'm paying for it. But I don't have any other possibilities and I gotta know. You're sure, but I've no idea. Understand what I mean?"

"Yes, I suppose I can. Although it's a waste of your money, I'll take the test," he agreed smiling gently. Then his brow furrowed in concern. "You do know how much the tests are don't you?"

Auralia could only blink stupidly in shock. She was so focused on convincing these men to take the test she didn't think about setting them up. "Um, nope. No clue. Still have to find out where to get them done and all that."

"We can do the blood draws and the tests here in the hospital."

"Really? That'd be so much easier."

"We're a teaching hospital and have our own labs. Cuts the processing time. It'll take about a week instead of the usual two weeks to get the results."

"A week?" Auralia croaked in dismay. "Isn't there a way to get them faster?"

"I'm afraid not. Why?"

"This is my spring break. I'm supposed to be back at school Monday. At this rate I'll be here 'til next week."

"Oh, that is a problem. I could call in a few favors and try to speed it up, but I can't make any promises. If not you could wait until summer vacation and we could do it then."

Auralia shook her head. "Nah, need to know as soon as possible. Had a hell of a time convincing Taylor to do it and by then he'd probably weasel out doing it," she paused, sighing heavily. "Either way I'm stuck. Don't mind missing school, but still not a good thing. My grades aren't that great to begin with, you know," she shrugged with a crooked smile. "So, do you know how much the tests cost?"

"Two hundred dollars per test."

"T-two hundred?" She gasped, her mind reeling as she calculated the total. 'What the hell? It'd be six hundred for three tests! Shit!'

"Yes, two hundred. Are you sure you can afford these tests?" Mark asked concerned.

She couldn't lose face now. She gave her word and it was the only way to convince them to even take the damn things. She swallowed hard before answering.

"Yeah. Just had no clue testing a little blood cost so much."

"You know, you don't have to do this," Mark replied gently.

"Yes I do," she answered, meeting his gaze.

"Alright," Mark glanced at his watch. "Look at the time. Would you like to join me for lunch?"

"Lunch?" She asked thrown for a loop.

"Yeah, you know, that meal people often have sometime between breakfast and dinner."

Auralia's eyes narrowed as she glared at him in annoyance.

"Really? Didn't know that." Rolling her eyes at his teasing grin she continued. "Didn't expect an invite to eat when we were done. Thought you'd want to kick my ass out asap."

Quirking a brow at her language, Mark decided to ignore that too for the time being.

"Since it's lunch time I thought it'd be nice to go get something to eat. Besides, it gives us a chance to get to know one another." At her skeptical look he added, "C'mon, come and brave the cafeteria food with me. My treat. Though, I don't think you'll see it as a treat once you try it," he finished with a chuckle.

"You're not going to take 'no' for an answer are you?" Auralia crookedly smiled, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Nope," Mark shook his head, smiling.

"Okay," she relented with a sigh.

"Good that settles it."

Mark got up and walked toward the door, holding it open for her. She idly wondered what would happen next. She was leery of his intentions, but figured on the remote chance he was her father, it'd be nice to know a little something about him too.

* * *

Author's note:

Abuela-grandmother


	4. Chapter 4

Auralia strolled among the different kiosks, browsing through a wide assortment of food from hot dishes to sandwiches and fruit. There were a couple of interesting items she never had before and decided to be adventurous. She always tried to taste something new whenever she had the opportunity.

As she made her selections she mulled over the interesting turn her day had taken. Yesterday she had two meetings with two potential candidates and left once she got what she needed. Both conversations had been brief, one extremely contentious, but nothing particularly telling. The conversations never moved beyond, 'you might be my father, can you please take a test?'

Her encounter with Dr. Sloan was different. Granted he was absolutely sure that neither he, nor his son Steve, was her biological father. However, he didn't get angry or upset when she pushed the issue and insisted on doing the tests anyway. If that wasn't surprising enough he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know her. Either that or he was just nosy. Not that she can blame him. She'd be wondering why some random person shows up one day claiming they might be her kid. It'd be dumb not to talk to them and find out more about them.

She wasn't very outgoing or personable. There was just too much in her life she was ashamed of and didn't like sharing. She didn't like being judged and especially hated being pitied. Unfortunately, that tended to be the typical reaction of a lot of people when she shared certain things.

Since she was pushing for the blood test she figured if Dr. Sloan wanted to know a little more about her then the least she could do was share. She really hoped that he wouldn't ask much about her mom, but she had a feeling that wasn't going to happen. Either way, if getting friendly with him improved her chances of getting his son to also take the test, then why not? She figured she had nothing to lose and if none of them were her father, she didn't plan on seeing any of them again.

Dr. Sloan came up behind her when she stepped up to the cashier to pay. "I've got it."

She blinked in surprise. "That's okay, I've got it"

"My treat remember?" He reminded her while he paid.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," she picked up her tray and followed him to a table outside on the patio. "I'm used to paying for myself. Thanks Dr. Sloan."

"Usually when someone invites someone else to eat, they're usually paying. Just good manners. And please, call me Mark," Mark said stuffing a napkin into his collar.

Auralia thought about it as she spread a napkin across her lap. "Good manners, like common courtesy, is kinda rare," she pointed out. "And isn't it rude to call you by your first name? You're, like, way older than me."

Mark started chuckling as her eyes widened in shock when she realized what she said. She quickly apologized. "Oh god, I'm sorry! Didn't mean it that way! I meant you're like my elder and, shit, that doesn't sound right either."

"Watch your language," Mark gently chided, still chuckling. "I understood what you meant, but I'd like to be your friend and friends call each other by their first names. So please call me Mark."

"Sorry." Trying to recover she took a bite of her food. "So, you wanna be my friend, huh?"

"I'd like to."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"'Cause why'd you want to be friends with a kid like me? And I just popped out of nowhere saying you might be my dad. Then I bug you to take a paternity test when you didn't want to. Not exactly a great start, y'know?"

"Well, take it from your elder," he smiled at Auralia who cringed, "it's been my experience that sometimes the best friendships are formed under unusual circumstances."

"If you say so. Still kinda weird. 'Kay then, my turn. My friends call me Aurie."

"Aurie," Mark repeated with a smile. "I like that, but I also like Auralia. It's a pretty name."

"Thanks." Aurie muttered quietly. "Some of my friends call me that because they can't pronounce it right. I'd rather be called Aurie than to hear them spend five minutes trying to pronounce it right while butchering it. I kinda like it though."

"Is that the only nickname you go by?" Mark asked interested.

"Mmmm, a couple will either call me by my middle name, Montserrat, or shorten it to Monty. There's at least one that insists on calling me A.M., but he's a dork," Aurie smirked.

Mark chuckled. "I'll have to take your word for it. Hmm, Auralia Montserrat Acevedes. A very exotic name compared to what I'm used to hearing, but it has a nice ring to it. Very unique."

"Thanks," Aurie replied shyly. She was annoyed with all the blushing she was doing.

"So you think that good manners and courtesy is hard to find, huh?" Mark asked. Aurie nodded in answer. "Well, I have to disagree. I think they aren't as rare as you think. More like they're making a comeback."

"How?" She cocked her head slightly in confusion.

"Well, most people would say that all teenagers today lack good manners and common courtesy. That they're just rude and inconsiderate. I think they're wrong. You, for example, actually know how to use the words 'please' and 'thank you.' Not to mention, you actually called me 'sir.' I think that shows good manners."

Aurie looked away briefly in embarrassment. She so rarely got compliments anymore that it was always hard to take them when given.

"Thanks," she finally said quietly.

"And I have to say that you were very polite when you came to see me today, even after I told you what you probably didn't want to hear."

She took a deep breath. "Well, you at least took the time to talk to me, even after I lied to see you. You could've done like Mr. Taylor and yelled for security."

"He called security on you? Why?" Mark was shocked. He couldn't see any need for calling security on a lone teenager who wasn't being aggressive or combative.

Aurie shrugged. "I guess because I just snuck into his building and went up to him. He thought I was hitting him up for a role in one of his movies and got annoyed when I wouldn't go away after he told me I wasn't what he was looking for. When I repeated I just wanted to talk to him for a couple of minutes he yelled for security."

Mark's jaw dropped. "He thought you wanted a part? He produces porn films!"

"Yeah, I know," Aurie grimaced. "Trust me, it's not fun having to wander a porn set looking for him," she explained shaking her head. "Anyways, he thought I wanted a role. As if," she huffed in annoyance.

Mark wondered what was going through Lawrence Taylor's mind thinking a fifteen-year-old girl wanted a role. Even if she wanted one, she wasn't legally old enough to be in his films. Shaking his head he decided to drop it.

"So, how'd you finally get him to speak with you if he was going to have you thrown out?

Aurie shifted uncomfortably in her chair, unsure whether to tell him or not. It wasn't exactly one of her shining moments. With a sigh she decided to just tell him rather than hear it from Taylor and get the wrong idea.

"Um, I started whining and crying at the top of my lungs, saying stupid crap about giving him the best b.j. he had in his Mercedes and he was trying to deny he was my baby daddy and junk." At Mark's shocked expression she quickly added, "I didn't want to get thrown out before talking to him and when you start saying garbage like that around a guy they'll do just about anything to shut you up, even if it ain't true. It was total b.s."

To her surprise Mark started laughing. "That really must've got his attention. That's pretty smart."

She smiled at him. "Yeah, it did. Dragged me into his office awfully fast."

"Well, knowing Lawrence I'm not surprised. He's not exactly in a business that has a good reputation to begin with and he likes to be in control of everything. That sort of stunt could start unwanted rumors and takes the situation out of his control."

"I'm just glad it worked." She cocked her head slightly. "You seem know him pretty well, huh?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Mark rolled his eyes. "He bugged me for the longest time to use my house for one of his movies. I never let him, of course, but he was pretty aggressive about it. He didn't like it that I told him 'no.'"

"Ah, the type of guy who hates hearing 'no,'" Aurie replied, taking a moment to finish off the rest of food on her plate.

"Yes he is," Mark replied, watching her closely, waiting for her to look up again. "I'm sorry if the food isn't that great. I've been after them for years to improve it, but so far nothing."

"Actually, I really like it."

"You liked it?" Mark asked incredulously, arching a brow.

"Yeah. Never had chipped beef before. It's pretty excellent."

He stared at her in disbelief. "You're serious. You actually liked it." Aurie nodded. Chuckling, Mark shook his head ruefully. "You and my son Steve would get along great. You have to be the only two people I know who actually like this food."

Seeing her chance, Aurie hesitantly seized on what she'd been trying to figure out how to ask Mark since they sat down. "Um, speaking of Steve. I was, um, wondering how I could get a hold of him to talk to him about taking the test."

"Why?" Mark frowned in confusion. "The results of our test should cover Steve." At Aurie's confused look he continued. "Let me explain. When two people are tested to see if they are parent and child and it's positive, the results will read 99.999 percent. If it's negative the results will be zero. If the percentage is lower it's likely the two people are indirectly related. They could be grandparent and grandchild, siblings, cousins, etcetera. It could be any relationship except parent and child. If our test was positive and Steve was tested also, as your brother his results would read at a lower percentage. Whether our test results are negative or positive, based on those results you would know without testing him if you're related to Steve or not. So it's really unnecessary for him to take the test."

Aurie thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, I guess. It's really complicated," she sighed in frustration. "Mr. Davis said he could be my father too. And not knowing for sure leaves a huge question mark. This way he's safe from me trying to say later he's my father."

"Would you do that?" He asked astonished.

"No, but you don't know that. You don't know me. I'd be suspicious of me in your shoes. Taylor definitely was." Aurie paused to roll her eyes and shake her head at the memory. "Anyways, you hear stuff like this all the time on talk shows. You don't know if I'd cause trouble later. So, for everyone's sanity it's better to just do it. It's a plus for you guys 'cause you'll never have to deal with me ever again if it's a bust. 'Sides, I said I'd pay for the tests. Sorry, but I didn't go through all this just to leave wondering," she shrugged sheepishly.

Mark sat back and thought about it for a moment, surprised at her candor and thoughtfulness. He stayed quiet for so long that Aurie was starting to worry he was going to start arguing or something when he finally spoke up. "Alright," he relented. "But let me talk to Steve first. With his job he can be difficult to get a hold of. I'll probably see him later, so it would be easier if I asked him for you than for you to try and reach him on your own. You do realize that it's going to get very expensive with three tests?"

Sighing heavily, she nodded. "Yes sir, but I'm going to see this through."

He studied her again before speaking. "Can I ask you something? Why are you looking for your father now?"

Aurie wasn't surprised he'd eventually get around to that question.

"It's not some sort of personal discovery or anything poetic like that. I kinda have to. My mom wasn't a legal U.S. resident and I'm not either. I was born in Mexico and got here not knowing I was an illegal. I'm fixing that now 'cause I don't want to get sent back to Mexico. I've been here a while and like it. Anyway, it'd go a lot easier if one of my parents is a citizen. Well, I hope so, anyways, and since it's Spring Break I figured I'd give it a shot."

"Did you really expect to find your father before spring break was over?"

"No. I'm not dumb, I don't think I'll ever find him. And that's okay. He's lived his life without me fine and I've lived mine without him fine. 'Sides, didn't have any plans for Spring Break and figured might as well try."

"You know most kids usually spend their spring break on the beach or traveling," Mark pointed out with a slight smile.

"I burn too easy and get carsick," she grinned.

"So when was the last time you saw your mother?" Mark asked innocently changing the subject. He'd been curious about Aurie and Amalia's relationship since she avoided the question earlier.

Caught off guard, Aurie stared at him blankly before trying to reply. "Huh? I mean, I've been here since Sunday night, so it would've…"

"It's been much longer than that since you've seen you're mother hasn't it?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"How'd you guess?" She asked amazed.

"Looking for your biological father is a big step and not one anyone would take without consulting or involving their mother in some way. You've hardly mentioned her at all. When you talked about your meetings with Davis and Taylor, you never said anything about her being there with you. Then she didn't come with you today. Doesn't make sense a minor would be doing this all on her own," Mark reasoned causing her to look away embarrassed. "When I asked how your mother was doing you completely ignored the question. You don't know how she is because you haven't seen her for awhile have you?"

Mark watched Aurie study the table for a few moments before looking up at him again. "Since I was thirteen."

"What happened?"

"Not much," Aurie shrugged indifferently. The look in Mark's eye told her that he knew there was more to it than that. Sighing she continued, "There's a lot to it and it's no big deal. I just don't talk about it, that's all. So, please don't ask me. We didn't get along and she threw me out. End of story. I honestly don't know where she is or how she is."

"Why ignore the question? Why not say that?"

Aurie blew out a harsh breath. "'Cause it's not enough for some people. They want to know all the dirty details. It wasn't a fun time for me and I don't like talking about it. I didn't want to answer your question and blew it off. Sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

"I can understand that. It's just I hadn't seen your mother in years, so I was curious. Alright, let's move on to something else. So when do you want to do the tests?"

"The sooner the better, I guess. How about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow's Wednesday right?" Mark asked. Aurie nodded again. "I'm not sure we can arrange the blood draw that fast. We'll have a better chance with Thursday."

She mulled it over for a moment before sighing heavily. "Yeah, it's probably better anyway. I've still got to call Taylor. Not looking forward to that one." She rolled her eyes as Mark smiled at her. "Wednesday would've been too short notice, so yeah, Thursday. Either way I'm stuck here through next week."

A thought suddenly occurred to Mark. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Um, nothing..." She trailed off hesitantly, taken aback by the question. She realized Mark had to be the most random person she ever met, next to her friend Lina.

"How would you like to play hooky with me tomorrow?"

"Hooky?"

"Yeah, you know hooky. The act of ditching school or some other responsibility to have fun."

Aurie gave him a lidded glare. "You love doing that, doncha?"

"Absolutely," Mark grinned before continuing. "Anyway, I have a couple of patients scheduled in the morning, but after that I'm free. I'd like to show you around or something. Isn't often I get to play tour guide." Mark paused, as another thought occurred to him. "This is your first time in California isn't it?"

"No, but let's just say that my last visit didn't have much to do with tourism and leave it at that," she smirked.

"Well then, you're gonna get a first class tour. Why don't you come by my office tomorrow morning? You might have to wait around a bit, but we can make the arrangements for the tests and be home free afterwards."

Aurie considered it before replying. "Could be fun. Sure, why not?"

Mark grinned in response as they got up to dump their garbage and return their trays. After bidding each other goodbye Aurie left and started heading back to her motel. She was happy her meeting with Dr. Sloan went so well. She was surprised he wanted to spend more time with her, but since she wasn't getting any creepy pedophile vibes off of him, she realized she was getting excited about tomorrow. She was relieved her day became better than it started and hoped tomorrow would be fantastic.

* * *

Montserrat is pronounced Mont-sur-aht. The double 'r's are supposed to be rolled, but if you're lingually challenged like I am then you might hurt yourself trying. ;P


	5. Chapter 5

Mark pulled into the driveway as the late afternoon sun cast long shadows on the ground and enveloped everything in a golden hue. The cry of seagulls punctuated the gentle crashing of the ocean as he cut the engine. Coming around to the passenger side of his convertible, he reached in to retrieve a grocery bag before making his way up the front steps. It wasn't often when he and Steve could enjoy a nice meal together. He decided to go all out and hoped it was enough of a distraction while he sprung the news about Aurie on his son.

While preparing dinner, Mark let his mind wander over the events of the day. He focused in particular on Aurie. At first he couldn't remember her mother, but everything came back to him when he saw her picture. He did remember her as a very beautiful woman. He also remembered her having reputation as a determined, manipulative predator.

Amalia was skillful in getting herself invited to the high-end parties or anywhere that put her in close proximity to rich, eligible bachelors, regardless of their age. Eventually Spencer Davis became her favorite prize to the exclusion of all others. It became a running joke to the point watching her attempt to charm Davis became the highlight of the evening for some partygoers.

Every fiber of his being was certain that neither he, nor Steve, were Aurie's biological father. He spent the rest of the day after her visit thinking back to that night of the party. He and Steve were invited because it was at a neighbor's home nearby. Amalia had been nowhere near him all night. He didn't even say two words to her. It had been that way since she set her sights on Davis. He clearly remembered going home early that night. Steve had decided to stay a little longer since it was one of the rare nights he had off. Knowing Steve, Mark was absolutely certain, beyond doubt, Amalia wouldn't have been able to drug him. No, neither one of them could be Auralia's father. However, he understood she couldn't just take his word for it, just as he couldn't simply take hers that he might be her father. More for her peace of mind than his own, he decided to go along with a blood test. Now he just needed to convince Steve to do it.

The sound of the front door opening and closing broke him out of his reverie.

"Dad?" the familiar voice called from the front room.

"In here Steve," Mark answered back. He looked up and smiled as his son entered the kitchen.

"Smells great. What are we having?" Having shed his gun and badge, Steve was already digging through the refrigerator looking for something to drink.

"Meat and cheese lasagna, garlic bread and a shrimp, walnut and romaine salad with raspberry vinaigrette," Mark rattled off with a flourish. "How was work?"

"Work," Steve quipped as he opened his beer and tossed the cap across the room into the garbage can. "No homicides, but loads and loads of paperwork." He paused to take a drink. "Or rather, many hours spent going cross-eyed in front of a computer screen."

"Sounds like fun."

"Doesn't it? So how was work for you?" Steve leaned against the kitchen counter and took another swig of beer.

"Actually, kinda interesting. Do you remember Amalia Acevedes?" Mark studied Steve while he searched his memory with a slight frown.

"Didn't she used to spend most of her time chasing after that interior designer, Spencer Davis?"

"The very same." Mark opened the oven and bent over to retrieve the lasagna. Straightening up, he placed it on a cooling rack on the counter before looking back at Steve. "I met her daughter this morning." He added conversationally.

His son looked shocked. "She has a daughter?" His lips quirked into a smile. "I wonder who the _'lucky'_ guy is."

"Her daughter's name is Auralia. Nice young lady."

Ignoring Steve's comment, Mark proceeded to dish out the food. Grabbing the loaded dishes, he headed into the dining room.

Frowning slightly, Steve tossed his empty bottle into the trash before grabbing the salad and following his father. "And what did she want?"

"To find out who her father is." Mark settled into his seat while Steve set the salad on the table and proceeded to pour the wine.

Once seated Steve continued. "And what does that have to do with you?"

"She asked me to take a paternity test," Mark replied matter of factly as he bit into his own food.

Steve started choking on his food. It took a few moments to finally croak out, "She what?"

Readying himself for what he knew what was coming next, Mark plunged on. "She's trying to find her biological father. She visited Spencer Davis, the man her mother named as her father. Spencer convinced Auralia he wasn't and named three other men as possibilities."

"And you're one of the possibilities?" Steve posed it more as a statement than a question.

"Yes and asked me to take a paternity test." Mark stated calmly as if talking about the weather.

"And you agreed to take it?" The disbelief was evident in Steve's voice.

"Yes."

"Why?" Steve asked confused.

"Why not?" Mark reasoned, setting down his fork. Sighing at Steve's glare, he explained. "Look Steve, I told her that there was no way I could be her father, but she just wants to be certain. She's paying for the tests. All I have to do is provide the sample."

"Dad!" There was no mistaking the exasperation in Steve's voice. "That's not the point. If she's anything like her mother, she could be laying a scam on you. Trying to embezzle money from you."

"Steve, she's not like her mother at all," Mark protested. "Besides, if the tests are negative she has no legal leg to stand on. It's really the best option for everyone involved." The one thing he knew for certain was Aurie was not trying to lay a scam on anyone.

"And you know this after one meeting?" Steve couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice. At Mark's nod he continued. "Look dad, a negative test is not always a guaranteed shield. As unlikely as it sounds, it's possible she could sue you for support. It has happened before."

"She could also get a lawyer and subpoena to get the tests. At least it's already out of the way if I just do it now."

Steve watched Mark continue eating, as if he hadn't a care in the world. Frustrated, he decided to try a different tactic. "Who else did Davis name as possibilities?"

"Lawrence Taylor."

"The porn producer?" Steve was surprised. He knew Taylor liked his flings, but he also knew that Taylor was very careful. This girl isn't the first to come forward claiming to be his child. Taylor was very shrewd and protected his financial assets very well. He wouldn't risk them on a careless one-night stand.

"Yep."

Steve shook his head resolutely and took another bite of his food. "He's not going to agree to take the test."

"He already has." Mark replied casually.

Steve stared in shock. "He did? How?"

"Auralia asked him." At Steve's disbelieving look Mark caved in. "Alright, she had to threaten to call a lawyer to convince him. But she didn't threaten me," he added hastily at Steve's glare.

"I'm sure." There was no mistaking the dry sarcasm in his tone either.

Mark leaned forward intently, looking his son straight in the eyes. "Steve, she asked me. She didn't threaten me. I don't see any harm in taking the test."

"Even though you're absolutely sure you're not her father?" Mark nodded and leaned back in his chair. Letting out a sigh, Steve continued. "Who else? You said Davis named three men. So far it's you and Taylor. Who else rounds out the triumvirate?"

Mark shifted uncomfortably before answering. "Um, you."

"What?" Steve's head snapped up in time with his fork falling on his plate with a clatter.

"Spencer named you, me and Lawrence."

"And she believed Davis?

"Yes. Apparently he gave her a pretty good reason."

"And that is?" Steve's patience was wearing thin.

"I don't know. She wouldn't tell me." Steve rolled his eyes. "She did it out of respect for Spencer's privacy," Mark protested. "She said if I wanted to know I'd have to ask him because it wasn't her secret to tell."

"And what about Davis?"

"What about him?" Mark asked innocently.

"Is he going to take a test?" Steve demanded.

"Uh, as far as I know, no."

Steve took a deep, calming breath. "Dad, this whole thing seems suspicious on so many levels." He raised his hand to stop Mark as he opened his mouth to protest. "Just looking at who she has for a mother is enough to question her motives. Plus, it seems Davis is covering his own ass by naming us as potential fathers. Who, I might add, is suddenly looking for her father after so many years. How old is she anyway?" he asked as an afterthought.

Mark thought about it. "She said her mother got pregnant at a party we attended here in Malibu sixteen years ago. The only party we attended that year around here that both Davis and Taylor attended was the film producer Richard Mason's retirement party. That should make her about fifteen."

"And how is it that her mother was sure Davis is her father, but he insists three other men are instead?"

"Apparently Amalia was trying to drug Spencer to get him to sleep with her, but slept with someone else. I'm guessing she must have been pretty drunk to not know for certain whom she had slept with. Because all three of us were at the party, Spencer figured we're the most likely candidates. I've been thinking back and I remember leaving that party early and coming home. Alone."

"Dad, that party was sixteen years ago." Not for the first time Steve was getting exasperated with his father's stubbornness. "I don't even remember that one. She can argue since it happened sixteen years ago, your memory is fuzzy and could be why you don't remember sleeping with her mother. A good enough reason for her to try and get your money," Steve pressed, making one last attempt to get his father to see reason.

"That's why I'm taking the test."

"And now she comes looking for her biological father?"

"She didn't want to, but said she had to." Mark's tone was of quiet understanding; one he was wishing Steve would share.

"And why is that?"

Sighing out of weariness Mark hesitated. It wasn't really his place to say, but Steve wouldn't stop harassing him until he got a straight answer. "Amalia isn't a legal citizen and neither is Aurie. She's working on becoming one, but if she finds her biological father and if he's a U.S. citizen or legal resident it will speed up the process."

"Aurie?" Steve asked confused.

"That's her nickname."

Steve let out a frustrated sigh. His dad obviously involved himself in this too deeply.

"Dad, I don't think this is a good idea. You don't know her motives and her background is just too murky. I don't think you should get involved in this."

"Steve, I agreed to take the blood test," Mark stated firmly. "It will prove without a doubt what I already know that I'm not her father." Hesitating, he prepared for what was coming next. "Uh, I also said I'd ask you to take the test as well."

"What? Why?" Steve was pole axed. How did he get dragged into this?

"I told her it was unnecessary since I was taking the test, but she doesn't want to leave any room for doubt. She made a good point, the test will protect us from any future litigation."

"She said that?"

"Yes."

"Well, that proves my point. If she's already talking about potential future litigation then it clearly shows what's on her mind."

"She's paying for the tests herself and accepts the very real possibility none of us could be her father." The exasperation at his son's attitude was finally getting the better of him. "I don't think those are the actions of someone with an ulterior motive."

"Dad…" Steve started to argue, but Mark cut across him.

"Steve, I'm taking the test," Mark said firmly. "She would like for you to take it, but my results should be sufficient if you don't want to do it. Just think about it."

"Alright," Steve agreed reluctantly. "I'll think about it, but I want to meet her before I make my decision."

"You do?" Now it was Marks' turn to be shocked. He expected Steve to argue with him over Aurie, but he hadn't expected his son to want to meet her.

"Yeah. I'd like to judge myself," Steve stated with a grim determination that made Mark uneasy. "When will you be doing the test?"

"Probably Thursday." Mark eyed his son. He wasn't sure if Steve meeting Aurie was a good idea, but really couldn't see anything wrong with allowing it to happen. He had always been protective of him ever since his mother died, so it was reasonable he'd want to meet this girl and decide if she was harmless or not.

"Doesn't leave for a lot of time," Steve muttered thoughtfully.

"How 'bout we all meet for lunch at BBQ Bobs tomorrow?" Mark asked hopefully, making up his mind it was a good opportunity. Once he met Aurie and realized that she wasn't a threat, he'd likely to agree to take the test.

"Will she show up?"

"She'll be with me."

"What?" Steve growled, tired of repeating that particular question.

"We're going sightseeing tomorrow after I'm finished with my patients. So how does one o'clock sound?" Mark asked cheerfully.

"Dad…" Steve began.

"Steve…" Mark warned.

"Alright, alright." Steve spread his hands up in defeat. "You're going to do it anyway. Just be careful."

"Always am," Mark replied with a smile.

"That's what I'm afraid of."


End file.
